Greased Lightning
by The Umbrella Man
Summary: What if the 'Outsiders' had not been written by Ponyboy? Then who did write it? And if so, how are things different? Or would they even be different at all? Major AU warning.
1. Chapter 1 : Tempest

**Greased Lightning**

**Chapter One**

**Tempest**

_ I don't own anything! All rights to the Outsiders goes to S.E. Hinton._

* * *

...

A young boy with long and greasy hair, stands alone in the dark with no lighter. His life story was a pale yet bleak one. The weight of his own memories anchoring him down, though the future shines only of black light ahead.

Time passes by with every day giving birth to a colder dawn. As another storm approaches, he thought that maybe a permanent rain and a deep sleep would end it all. But that was no longer an option.

He looked up to see an overcast above him, not surprising in the least. The sky was sprinkling with precipitation, not of rain or of snow however, but of ash. His every chapter breathing the same, detailing two well known acquaintances of his - pain and misery.

And as life forges on, leaving the boy held still and tangled by all its complications; the book morphs into a darker one. As it shifts into a black shade the words grow ever harder to read. Pages are torn out and important words faded. Until the book itself becomes ash - in other words, trash. As the book is blow away, extinguished by the winds of time, with pages flying off and being left off here and there. The book then becomes an unreadable one. In which, all of its experiences are rusted into oblivion; and all the hearts its touched, left in the dust.

...

_"I wonder what it's like to be forgotten."_

* * *

I left the movie theater, my eyes still adjusting to the abrupt shift in light.

I was watching another Paul Newman movie. I've only seen a few before including this one, but I just wanted to see this one again. Paul Newman was real tuff, but I'm not. Oh well, I guess I am me and that's how I'll always be. But my life, the life I'm living, it's for _them_. Though I know I don't have much to live for. And let's face it, I never did, especially not without _them_. I was born to be a Grease, and I'll die a Grease too.

Just like _them_...

I surveyed the surrounding area. The sky was bright and blue with the golden sun situated at the apparent apex. (Are they all gone?) The Socs, I meant. I sure hoped they were. It was all empty and quiet. Well, I guess it ought to be, right? After all, school's still going on right now.

I should be in school. I know I should, but what's there for me? There's maybe all but five people there I'd actually like to see. Besides, after all the stuff that went down, I missed like two whole weeks of it anyway. And the school year's almost over. It's not like missing a few more's gonna change anything, right?

But ever since then, I can safely say that my grades have improved, greatly even. And it's all just for _them_. But since there's not so much time left, they haven't really changed much, if at all.

I walked down the road alone. The sun was more or less burning the jacket off my back, but I still felt cold inside. The road headed towards the house of a good friend. I don't live in my old house, and thank God too. It's far too painful to stay...

Realizing the obvious, I began to worry. It is quiet, too quiet. No one was at the house: no one was there to help me. I was all alone now, alone in this world, with no one who truly understands me...

But at least I've got some good friends. I may not look it, but I will readily fight for them in a heart beat. I'll have their back, and I want to be there for them all the way. Why? Because I know they'll do the same for me, and they're all that I have left...

* * *

At the intersection of the road, someone walked out in front of me and stopped at my very sight. He was alone too, I recognized him instantly and vice versa was true as well. His eyes glared daggers right through me. I could literally feel all of his hate intensely burning at my insides. Though I tried, I could not return the favor.

Randy Adderson was his name, and I internally shuddered at the sight of him. One of the guys who could've easily killed me that day. But I showed no fear, you just don't do that. Though he doesn't have the right, I guess it's real understandable why he's mad at me of all people. I'm certain that Marcia dumped him the day she figured it all out. And since then, the guy's not the same. Cherry and Marcia told me how they were genuinely nice guys; real tuff, funny and talented. A guy who a cut above the rest, not just to Greasers, but to other Socs, and they admired him for that.

But I've never known that kind of person. I don't think I ever will. And here before me sure wasn't him, the guy that Marcia describe, that is.

"It's you're fault! Why couldn't you just _die_?" the hatred was rising quickly.

"Then and none of this would've happened!" he shook with a desperate look in his eyes. Somehow I was starting to believe him. He knows I didn't kill Bob, though if it weren't for me, he wouldn't have died then. But everyone else seemed to think otherwise.

All I could do was let my head sink, I tried fighting it but I wouldn't listen to me. I never do. My unresponsiveness only got him madder.

"That's it, Grease. You're gonna pay!" he rushed at me quickly. He tried a right hook, but I managed to catch his hand and returned it with a right hook too. I punched just hard enough to make his mouth bleed slightly. He swore at me again, wiping away the blood with the back of his hand. I backed up more while he ran towards me again.

This time, he punched faster than I could see; so I closed my eyes, rose one of my hands in front of me and sent the other at his direction. I hit him some how, but no hard enough to make much of an effect. His other hand swooped under and hit me square in the stomach. I was pushed down and then kicked him as he tried to follow up. I got up as quick as I could but he hit me again on my left cheek. I dodged his next move and leg sweeped him.

I wasn't thinking right, then. _I don't want to fight. There's no use to it all. But I know I have to. It's too late now, there's nothing I can do right now._

Again, I wouldn't listen to me. I walked back slowly in a real dumb look on my face.

Struggling on the ground, he lunged and grabbed my foot and tripped me down, my back flat on the floor. He started wailing on me, I closed my eyes real tight and kept my hands in front of my face, trying to shield myself. But they were no help. I kneed him away from me and I managed to stand again and throw out a left swing. He reeled backward and I eyed him sorely, wanting to stop this right now.

He didn't seem to get the message. Randy was a real good fighter, so was I, but not like him. He was quick and pretty strong too. Some how I didn't think he want to fight much longer either.

This time, we both made a quick dash at each other. I managed to get close enough to swing me right fist around and aim for the side of his face. He caught this and prepared for that hit, so instead my hand drew back and the other hand thrusted into his stomach.

"Randy, stop. Just...just leave it, there's no point." My voice came out toneless but weak, and I turned away and walked towards the house.

"Stop? And what?" I stopped to look at him. His breathing was unsteady and heavy, a insane look was imprinted on his face. One out of desperation as well as a need for honor.

"Lose to a Greaser? Never." I tried blocking him again, but he bypassed my guard and pushed me hard enough to hit the wall behind me pretty hard. Though I didn't lose my balance and fall over, he drove me to the wall and held me up by my shirt collar.

My body was aching so much and I could barely breath. My arms felt so heavy that I though that at any moment now, they could fall off my body. My eyes looked into his. Mine weren't the same now. Now, all I felt was sheer hatred for not just him, but all Socs. They were the ones who cause my true suffering and it's because of them that _they've _left this world. So would I join them now?

_(No...)_

His eyes looked sorry. It was like if there were any other way he knew, that he'd take it. Back before we met Cherry and Marcia, at least we knew what to expect of each other. That's what we lived in for almost all of our lives. Greasers and Socs. The traditions have remained the same. But a Greaser with a Soc girl for any reason except for hollering at each other, sparked a flame never lit before. And even though no Greaser would admit it, that's the way we'd like it all. Predictable and expected, no real surprises came our way as long as things stayed the way they were. But times have changed, and those not ready for it were swept away by the storm, including me.

Why did kids need to fight? For belonging and brotherhood? Was it something to be proud of?

...I doubt I'll ever know.

He staggered before we both became motionless. He looked back to the side and his eyes light up. "Heheh," he looked behind him and smiled. "You're gonna get it now." Three more Socs, ones he probably knew, were walking down the street towards us. I punched him as hard as I could. He dropped like rock, and I started running like there was no tomorrow.

I always could run faster than most Socs and most my friends too.

When I got to Greaser territory, they stopped, seeing other Greasers around. They just stared each other down before the Socs left. But I kept running to the house, though at a much slower pace than before.

* * *

When I got to the house, I opened the door. I've been here so much times that I was starting think I've lived here forever. After looking for a sofa, I jumped up and plopped on top of it, exhausted. I wasn't off too bad right now, I've been through worse. I guess I got lucky this time, if Randy was with another Soc then maybe I would've never gotten away.

I eventually went to the bathroom. Ignoring my bloody face at first, I felt real dirty so I washed it off. I looked at a mirror, dang all that fighting and running really messed my hair. I still grease it a lot but it hasn't grown back since Windrixville.

I walked towards my room; all I wanted was to rest my head. I was still throbbing from the pain of our fight. It felt weird being in this room, though. It didn't belong to me and I didn't like the thought that not too long ago, someone else was living, breathing, and sleeping here.

I passed a picture with a wooden frame. It was in black and white. The picture was one of my whole family. Mom and Dad were there, it was a long time ago. I remember the laughs we shared and a time when things were always better. It brought back a smile to this greasy boy, for the first time in a long time.

Back then, the Greaser and Soc conflict was non-existent to me. So if things didn't take a turn for the worse...(_Would I be a Grease? Would I ever met all my friends, the people I fight for? And if we did, how would I treat them? Like dirt like I was a Soc? Or like a brother as a fellow Greaser?)_

_I don't know, but I wonder..._

And soon enough, the smile had melted.

_I don't even know why I have this picture! It's no good now, all it is, is reminder of how much life sucks right now!_ I couldn't stand to see it anymore. Back when we all shared laughs together? That was a long, LONG time ago...

I threw the picture far in the back of the room... I don't want to see it again.

* * *

I found a paper assignment from my English class. I had to write a them that was important to me. I jumped at the chance when I first heard about it. Maybe this was my chance to maybe change something in this world. Maybe I could let people know that things were rough all over, no matter who you are and what you do. Life may not be so fair, especially mine, but maybe I can matter through this. I can't say I forgive the Socs, I just can't and I don't think I'll ever. But maybe one day, they'll realize that we're human too, not so different from us, right?

But maybe this won't change a damn thing at all...Even so, I don't want to bring myself down anymore. Maybe it won't matter so much, I don't care. Something needed to be said and I'm not gonna miss an opportunity like this. I know what I want to right, and I'm doing this for _them_ and everyone else out there like us. Maybe there were other cities around that had the same problem, so maybe I can help them out.

I got out the phone and called my teacher, "Hello?" "Hello?" another voice answered. "Who is this?" obviously curious since my voice was well young enough to be someone who should be in school right now.

"Mr. Syme, the theme; how long does the theme have to be?" "Uh, as long as you want it to be. Just who is this?" I barely listened to him after he answered my question.

"It doesn't matter (it really didn't), thanks Mr. Syme," I hung up and went to a table to get ready and write it all down.

I wrote in big letters,** _Greased Lightning_**. I knew what I wanted to write about, my life. The things I've been through and the things me and my friends have experienced. Though, I didn't want it to be in my perspective, I didn't want people to know what _really _went down, at least not all the specific details. But just enough.

I thought about it for a long, long time. I knew who I wanted to be the eyes and ears of this story. I knew how this story would go down, so very close to my - or our lives. But I think it'll be sufficient. I knew now how to start it all:

_When I stepped out of the darkness and into the light, I had two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home..._

But then I remembered one thing. I had to write my name...I hate my name, I always did, but it was mine and that's how things are. I'm probably gonna put an alias or something when I finish this, but as for now, I wanted my name to be written proudly, for once. Just that this is my own, original story. So I did, I wrote it in a big and fancy font and deeply bolded. Almost the same size as the title.

**_Johnny Cade_**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Like my other stories, this is not going to be a One-Shot. But it will not be updated so much at all. Well anyway, this _is _a major AU of the Outsiders, very similar but with a quite a few _significant _differences here and there. And there will be a lot of direct references from the actual book too.

So were any of y'all surprised by the end, because if so then I did a good job here. 8)


	2. Chapter 2 : The Beat Goes On

**Greased Lightning**

**Chapter Two**

**The Beat Goes On**

* * *

It was pretty late at night, around 8 : 30 or so, when I got home.

When I opened the door and went to the living room and found two of the closest friends I could ever ask. The older one, who was being messaged by his younger brother. At first, they both looked at me real surprised with eyes that would shine out the words, "Ponyboy, is that you?" But they dulled back slightly when they found nothing but me.

It didn't bother me so much, I mean I probably would've done the same thing if I were them. I keep going to the movies or taking walks and go _home_around the same times as he always did anyway.

They miss their dead brother...My best friend, and no matter how much any of us wished that week never happened, nothing was gonna change that. I still wish it were me who had the switchblade and killed Bob, then it wouldn't matter so much to anyone, right? I didn't have a family - a real one, that is. But Ponyboy did, and a damn good one too.

"Hey, kiddo. Why are you out so late?" Darry never hollered at me, he knew it wouldn't be right, but honestly, I wouldn't mind it so much. Whatever he could say, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as Mom and Dad would say, and Darry would only do it because he actually cared, Mom and Dad sure as hell didn't.

Though, ever since _he's _gone, he treats me an awful lot like _him_. Which I really liked, it felt good that someone cared about me for once.

"Yeah, Johnny. You know we're really worried about you, you're like family too. Just like Steve and Two-Bit." Soda said, hiding his actual hidden fear of something. But he grinned at me, and that statement made my heart flutter. Of course I have a family; it's them and golly, they're a helluva lot better than my old one.

"Sorry guys. I promise I won't be out all the time, m'kay?" I felt a little guilty for making them worry.

"No, we ain't you're parents, little buddy. Just try to keep outta trouble, ya' hear?"

I smiled, I just had too, "Sure."

"But can you not smoke in the house?"

"Okay," I put it out and dropped it a garbage can. Soda said that Darry never really let Ponyboy smoke in the house when he was still alive and I didn't like them giving me special treatment or anything like that. I still smoked an awful lot, probably now more than ever; but it didn't bother me some when a friend would ask me to stop.

I know Ponyboy died a smoker. I wonder when he first started smoking. (Oh yeah...) I looked a little down, but luckily then didn't see me. The answer to that was a little off. Pony had been offered drugs like smoke a long while ago. He was already my friend when I was 9 and he was 7 and I was smoking by then. I told him then that I didn't think it was such a hot idea for him to smoke, though. I remember he tried a few times when he was like 12 or 13 but never really started smoke like he did until after his parents died.

I wonder if the fire started because of a cigarette.

...

"Soda, c'mon man, rub harder."

"No Darry, I don't like how you're always workin' so hard now. And you need all the sleep you can get." Soda wasn't lying. Since Ponyboy died, Darry had been working almost non-stop; taking extra hours whenever he can. I wasn't so sure why since I tried not to eat too much so the groceries won't cost so much. But then I remembered something that deeply bothered me and all of us.

Ponyboy still hadn't gotten a funeral...They were real expensive, and there's no way my best friend and their brother was gonna go without one. He's too much of a good kid for that to happen.

I wonder, if it were me, would I have a funeral? I know they couldn't give me one, and I _know _Mom and Dad wouldn't.

Turning his attention back to me, Soda hollered out, "Hey Johnny, there's still some food left in the kitchen. Go ahead eat, man." I followed his suggestion and helped myself to eat. I finished soon since I never ate too much. I finally learned how to cook, even if just a little. I was proud I could do something that'll help my friends, especially since Two-Bit's always here and trying to raid the fridge a lot.

And then, I noticed something that scared me something awful. I trembled fiercely but didn't let Soda or Darry see. And now that I think about it, Darry did seem a little off or out of it, ya' know?

"Darry..." I looked as pale as a ghost. I hated him doing this, Soda did too.

"Yeah, Johnnycake?" he asked.

"Are you...Are you _drunk_?" There were empty bottles of alcohol in the kitchen.

He rose his head up and looked at me real tired-like and sounded a little ashamed when he said, "Yeah... Don't worry so much, Johnnycake. I'll be fine." Somehow I wasn't entirely sure of that, I could never be.

_I just **hate **alcohol._

"Okay," I swore to myself under my breath; I barely sounded like I believed him. I knew they could tell, and he didn't deserve that from me. Not after all they've done for me.

"Well guys," Darry got up and stretched his muscular arms out, ignoring the clear lack of faith in my comment. "I think I'd best hit the hay."

"Okay, g'night Dare," me and Soda both said at the same time. I followed suite and went to Pony's - er my room, now.

I felt real low and jumped onto that bed that wasn't mine. The door opened and I saw the big brother of my now dead best friend.

He walked up and sat on the bed, sitting behind me. "Hey Johnny, you okay?"

(_Heck no_!) I responded with a weak, "Yeah..." Soda obviously didn't believe me. I guess I made it a little easy for him, but Ponyboy always told me how Sodapop could understand everything, almost. He told me he loved his brother more than anyone, maybe even more than his parents. He told me about how Soda would always stick up for him, or how he could make anyone grin no matter what. Soda always believed in his brother and I don't think Pony could ever live without his big brother.

So now, I'm wondering...Just how did Soda take it? He probably panicked at first, searching for us non-stop. But Soda wasn't stupid, no matter how much he believed that. He found Pony's dark blue sweatshirt at Buck's house and noticed how Dal was too cool with me being gone. He was the only who figured it out, that's what Steve told me. Soda could figure anything out, if he were doing it for Ponyboy.

I think that's real tuff, and I know Dally could do the same if it were for me. I'd like to think of Dally as the Sodapop to my Ponyboy, but that just didn't seem right. Even so, I'd like to think of like that, I'm surprised I'm doing so well without him. I guess it's because he wouldn't want me to mope around all the time, if he were still alive.

_I know he wouldn't._

"Soda, would Darry drink if Pony was still alive instead of me?" There was a long pause before he said anything.

"Now Johnny don't you go think like that. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. We'll never know that, now." That didn't help so much, but at least he was trying, right?

Soda got a little closer, "C'mon, have faith in him, Johnny. Darry always hated the idea of drinking and you know that," his voice was solemn and got a little sadder. "We - he just needs some more time to move on since..." His words grew slower and slower, "Since Pony died..."

He was real down too and I didn't like it. I shouldn't be bringing anyone down with me, especially not someone like Sodapop. They deserve better from me. "Soda I'm sorry I brought it up..."

He snapped out of it, "No, it's okay...We'll be fine, Johnny, honest." He gave me a big, reassuring grin, that same one he did all the time to cheer up Ponyboy.

I couldn't help but smile back at him, "Okay, Soda." I looked at a clock and it said 9 : 13, "I think Darry'll want us to go to bed, there's school tomorrow."

"Okay, g'night Johnny," he left the room.

And then the thought just hit me. (_Maybe Soda's not handling Ponyboy's death as well as I thought. Him and Darry both._) I hated the thought.

...

I left the room without turning off the lights and headed towards the living room. I just had to know, Soda... Darry was in his room, I knew that. The living room lights were off too. Soda told me that it wasn't the same, his room. The leftover smell of cigarettes heavily encased the air, not to mention all of his stuff were all still there. I don't think he can stand seeing all that so well, but I don't think he could bare the thought of moving it all. They were basically the last remnants of his little brother left. Maybe that was why he'd sleep on the sofa all the time, he just couldn't stay there...

I heard a soft, but steady cry from the living room.

...

* * *

(_What the heck's wrong with me? Why am I taking their death's so well? Ponyboy, he died a hero. He shouldn't have died, dang it! He had something that almost all greasers didn't. A future, and I was no exception. What will be in my future?_

_**...Fuckin' Socs! It's all their fault this happened...**_

_What gave them the right, anyway? They're no better than I or any other greaser. So what if they have more money and dress nicer, does that make them better people? No, it doesn't!_

_I remember in Windrixville, Ponyboy told me how he and Cherry could talk like there was no real difference between Socs and us. He said that Socs are just people, just like us. But who would do stuff like this? I just don't know..._

My thoughts went back at Ponyboy and Dally.

**_Ponyboy's last words were, "Stay gold, Johnny. Stay gold."_**

_But what did that mean? Gold? I'm not gold, am I?_

_And Dally...He died for me! But why? I should've taken that bullet...Not him, why did he push me away?_

**_I had the shot, I could've killed the guy, but no..._**

_**And because of that, Dally's...**_)

I couldn't sleep that night...My thoughts, they went on and lasted forever.

* * *

In school, during lunch. I went and found Steve and he drove me to this local food joint. I didn't feel bad at all, leaving the school, the Socs were makin' a big mess in the lunch room at school anyway. We'd bet money that they'll blame all of us for all the trouble their causing - throwing silverware and napkins and stuff. We all just laughed at the thought; no real greasers actually stayed in our school to eat lunch anyway. And it wasn't only because the food was crap and expensive too.

Steve bought me a Pepsi, Soda's and Pony's favorite. I like them too but I could never chug them like they could.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat anything?" Steve asked.

"Nah, I'm not hungry."

He looked at me with disbelief, "Yeah right! I've seen you, Soda and Pony have eating contests when there was enough food! So what if Soda'd usually win? Y'all were pretty darn close, most of the time." Steve was right, but I just wasn't for some reason. I shrugged.

A tuff looking car had to come by driving toward us. "Great, what do they want?" Steve stood up, lookin' tough and his hand was positioned like he'd pull out a gun or switchblade if the situation called for it.

Four Socs, ones I didn't recognize. I sat coolly, idly drinking my Pepsi and paying absolutely no mind to them Social dirtbags.

"Hey, grease. You know we dun like nobody killin' our friend. Especially not by dirty scum like you."

(_No really? What about Pony and Dally? Of course they'd never consider things from our side. So why should we? And besides, I wasn't the one killed him, either. If you really cared about him, then you'd know that._) I stayed silent and felt...odd. I'm not so sure how to put it - not scared, not so mad, or anything really. I don't even know.

"He had more to live for than any of you greasers."

(_Maybe Bob did, but that doesn't make him above us._) They walked a little closer trying to look menacing.

But it didn't phase me at all, I busted the end off my bottle and held on the neck. "You get back into your car or you'll get split, ya' dig?"

They backed up slightly (Maybe they don't have weapons with them, they really can't be that dumb. Can they?)

Though they didn't seem like they believed me. "I mean it," I stood up and took a step closer to them.

I dunno what Steve meant when he said, "Johnny?" real quiet, so I ignored it a little.

I must've looked real sour when I said, "I've had just about all I can take from you guys." I started toward them, holding the bottle the way Tim Shepard holds a blade - out and away from myself, in a loose but firm grip. I guess they knew I was serious because they all hopped into their car and tailed off.

"You would have really used that bottle, wouldn't ya?" I looked back down at the _shattered glass_ on the street.

"I guess so," I let out a sigh. _It's not like I would be proud to do so, but would I be sorry? No._

I dunno what Steve was sweating about, anybody else would have done the same thing and Steve wouldn't have thought about it twice. I didn't notice anything serious, but he still looked at me awful worried, "Now look, Johnny, don't you get all tough. You're not like the rest of us and don't try to be..." I still didn't know what Steve was worrying about. It's like what Dally told me...

Steve's voice broke into my thoughts, "What in the world are you doing?"

I looked back at him, "What? Pickin' up the glass." He stared at me for a second then grinned.

"You little, son-of-a-bitch," he was grinning ear-to-ear. Well, it's not like I didn't know that already. Still not sure what he was getting at, I just went on picking up the glass from the bottle end and put it in a trash can. I don't want anyone getting a flat tire or anything.

* * *

I went home lost in thought. I just walked there like me and Pony used to all the time. I wonder if Steve and Two-Bit'll be mad at me for like ditching them. Oh well, they know I like walking from school nowadays.

_So Pony...Dally..._

_Has anything really happened since they died? I don't think anything's really changed._

_Even though we've beaten the Socs in that rumble, it didn't do much. Socs still try to jump greasers and we keep defending ourselves to the end._

_So was their death in vain?_

I saw a couple greasers and Socs in a pretty big fight. I didn't bother helping, the Socs knew better then to go way over here at this time of the day. They didn't need my help at all.

_I guess it's safe to say nothing's really different after all._

_..._

_And even though that same song has gone,_

_The Beat Still Goes On..._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This is a major AU fanfic, a lot of things will be similar but different. It probably won't be the longest fic I'll write. And there will be a lot of direct references to the book.

Don't expect an update for a long while, like in a month or something..


	3. Chapter 3 : Searchlights

**Greased Lightning**

**Chapter Three**

**Searchlights**

* * *

I stood outside my old house thinking of the words, "_How did I get here?_"

It was just after school. Instead of coming home right away, I decided to take a long walk. To where? Golly, I don't even know, but I don't really care, to be honest. I just needed to be out.

Today was nicer than usual; the sun was bright, the sky was clear, and it was cooler than the summer had suggested. I met up with a few greasers while walking around Jay's and other places 'round it. A bunch of them just came along to say that I did a good job for something, I brushed them by quickly, not really listening to them. I didn't know why they'd say, but I didn't care so much. Besides, I didn't know many of them so well.

When I walked out to the drag a little while back, I stopped and silently made a wish. I had wished that I could see the same two people roughin' it out, the mexican hit-hiker and the old greaser, again. Not because I was bored, well not mostly at least. But because I hoped that things could be back to the way things were.

And as usual, it wasn't. I didn't expect much else anyways, but that didn't stop me.

*Sigh*

I don't like change...

I went so far as to walk to the Nightly Double, for the same reason as before. Hoping that maybe Cherry would be there, or maybe Two-Bit would jump out and scare me to death again. He never did try anymore. I though that maybe it's because when there are two less people around that you're always around, you've got less things to remember. Less things to worry about. And less smiles to see...

Now, all you really had to know 'bout them, was that they're dead now.

And that was it...

But they'd never leave my head, no matter how much I've tried. I think I've tried though, not hard enough at least. I don't think I'd want to forget them, ever. Since my friends are the only things keeping me here on this world. And they always were, if I really think about it.

Looking back at the drag and at the Nightly Double. Things weren't so different, actually. There were still greasers fighting, smoking, or off lookin' for trouble. The movies still showed the same crap it always did.

_It's all the same,_ I thought... All except the people I was around. They were never there.

At the streets and at places like the Dingo, I'm pretty sure it was the same people around. At the movies, I swear it's the same people I see that came around every day. I didn't know them, nor did I want to. But they all looked the same to me.

Were they? Probably not.

This wasn't the first time I've been doing this. I came around the same routine at least once or twice every week, hoping to God things would be back to normal.

And for the most part, they were. Everything was normal, nothing's changed. Nothing but me.

I hoped something would be different, I needed a sign. A sign that would say, that all the things me and my friends had to pull through wasn't for nothing.

Then again, just what were we? _Greasers_, that's what. It's not like we ever mattered to anyone, anyways...

_We're just greasers..._

* * *

I came back to the Nightly Double anyways, is was still pretty early.

I wondered if Steve would eventually come over here lookin' for me since I hadn't seen him the whole day. He found me here a couple time before, once when I had actually fallen asleep here. If he didn't come as soon as he did, who knows how much trouble I would've gotten into.

_I guess Dally was right after all..._

Of course, since when was he not, I laughed a little to myself.

"Johnny?" I looked around, my eyes settled on a familiar, good-lookin' girl.

I felt my eyes light up vibrantly, "Marcia!" I almost didn't believe it at first.

She walked right up to me, "Hey there." She smiled so brightly at me, and I returned the favor.

"It's been a long time, ya'know. It's so good to see you."

I responded with a meek, "Yeah..."

The two of us ended up talking the whole way through the movie and we even left before the whole thing ended. We talked about a lot of stuff. Clothes, foods, and other random things like about purple foods. How there aren't a lot of those things. We got to talking more about her eventually. A little about her friends and how they're like.

But of course, we ended up talking about Socs and greasers again. I told her what most greasers liked; which were cars, our hair, drag racing, and other tough things like that. I mentioned how a lot of us had weapons like blades, chains, and heaters. Made sure not to tell her that I had a blade right here, in my pocket as we spoke, though. I talked about Jay's and the Dingo. How the smell of cigarettes were never too far off, and I mentioned about the time a girl got shot that one time.

I could tell she was getting uncomfortable and I only laughed lightly at her expense. Of course none of the stuff I said should've really surprised her in the end, I doubt they would have.

...

* * *

It was really nice to talk to Marcia again. I've seen them around but...

Once a few days ago, I saw Cherry leave the school doors and we saw each other. She smiled at me at first but it just melted soon after. She looked around and behind her. I think she saw a couple of friends and she just ignored me and walked away. I saw Marcia, and she looked back at me too, with a grin. But Cherry walked by her and the same thing happened with Marcia as Cherry. Their eyes settled, and my smile left along with their's.

"Why?" I blurted out with a faded look in my eyes. Her pretty face became tarnished at my comment, noticing my solemn tone.

"What?" her voice, a distasteful one.

I stiffened up, I hated to continue but I just had to say it. "In school, how come you never say hi, or anything?"

She looked at me awful sorry-looking. I didn't like it, so I just looked away, "You'd just ignore me, you and Cherry both."

"Johnny...I'm sorry but..."

"...But what?" my voice kept real quiet, but my eyes began to narrow slightly.

"My friends, they're..." she stopped right there, fishing for the right words to say but she could never find one. Not one that she knew wouldn't get me more pissed at her.

(They're Socs?) So I answered for her.

I sighed lightly, makes sense, I guess. And I should've expected as much in the end. But that's really not what had bothered me right then.

I finally faced her again, and looked her in the eyes. "Marcia. When Ponyboy was in the hospital, me and the rest of the gang, we all tried our best to be there for him. And after the rumble, we all went to see him right away," my words slowed, and my head nodded gradually as I looked away from her.

_Greasers don't cry, remember?_

"But not too long after, he..." my heart stifled as I struggled to continue, but the pain was just too much for me right then. The thought of my best friend on his deathbed... My right hand balled up into a fist and shook as it tightened up.

"Died..." she finished it for me, I really wished she hadn't though. I remembered the yells of terror that belonged the only two living members of that family left. My head hit the ground as the anxiety peaked.

...

"Why didn't you visit him then?" I demanded.

"Johnny...Bob was one of my best friends..." her voice began to trail off.

I thought of the same drunken guy who was so ready to kill me...twice. And somehow, I was supposed to believe that the Bob Sheldon was all those things Marcia was saying - I wasn't buying it.

"Johnny, if you got to know him, then you'd think so too." That statement left a wry, sour imprint on my face, much to her dismay.

(I seriously doubt that, Marcia.) I so wanted to holler out so badly, but I wasn't.

I laughed to myself and formed a little grin, "What're you talkin' about, Marcia?" I went on, but the smile didn't last long. "I got know him alright, and his blade too." She looked back at me, bothered by my comment but I kept on ignoring it.

I grimaced, "If you ever get to see the guy again, tell that I said, '_thanks a lot_' will ya'?" I felt myself stiffen up, finally remembering the cut wound I still had on my cheek.

Marcia looked at my face with eyes asking, 'Is that how got that?'

I responded with an expression that said, 'What do you think?'

"An' besides, I wouldn't want to be friends with an alcoholic who has a big anger problem, anyways." My face became grim.

"I already said that Bob and Randy weren't always like that!"

I looked away in disbelief, "Sure..."

She went on, "And deep down, I know you think there was a good person in the both of them, no matter what happened."

(Where'd you get that idea?)

She stepped back a little, she seemed scared for some reason. "At least, that nice kid me and Cherry met at the Nightly Double would. The same nice kid who told his friend to back off, the one who jumped at his friends impression of another Soc.

I know for sure that he would think so."

My head sunk low as I still faced away. I spoke softly, "He probably would have, Marcia. I'm sure he would."

I said in a dull and heavy tone, "**It's too bad that kid's dead now.**"

(He died along with his two best friends.) She responded in a silent gaze at me, it was like she was peering into my soul and being; which began annoy the hell out of me.

"What happened to you?" she plead out the words which was only attributed by the devastated look on her face.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know..." my voice was acerbic, and the vibrant gleam in my eyes had grown sullen.

"Johnny, please! You're a good kid...And do you how hard it is to find good kids like you, nowadays!"

My thoughts wavered upon the answer. (Pretty damn hard.) I'd guess so. I thought about all the 'good' people I could think of. I could definitely tell that Steve didn't fit so much along those lines. Even if he was a great friend, others wouldn't think so. Dally too, but Two-Bit...Maybe, I'd think he is. And Sodapop and Ponyboy fit under that, maybe even Darry to his old friends. I guess I wouldn't know.

Other than them, Marcia and Cherry, Evie, and some people I've seen at school - I didn't really know that much _nice _people.

But Marcia still hadn't answered my question, I don't think she was avoiding it or anything, she just like forgot. I had to wonder why she and Two-Bit got along so well, and I still can't quite figure it out.

"So Marcia...You never answered my question. Why didn't you come see Ponyboy when he was in the hospital. You know that it if were you in there, he'd be there for you, no sweat!" I know he would, but she didn't say anything. Her eyes settled to the ground which was evidently more interesting, or at least more important that what I had to say.

Even if she couldn't find an answer, there was no hiding the severe look of guilt she had plastered on her face.

"I already told you Johnny, Bob was something special. He was one of the best friends I could ever have, I've known him longer than I've known anyone. If you'd Cherry and she'd say a lot of the same things I would, no doubt. And I know Randy and Bob were asking for it and all, but I just don't think I can face the guy who killed my best friend."

...

My patiences was running thin, real quickly.

"Marcia...You said that I should go an' look past Bob being out to kill us...

_So why can't you do the same for Ponyboy!_" I yelled out the words, my voice came out scornful yet morose at the same time. I was literally on an edge here.

She stopped, her eyes shined out radiantly but the face was empty. I'm not so sure if she had said it or not, "_I...Don't know..._"

Inside of my was hell, everything I've lived and known told me I shouldn't be mad. But at the same time, reason told me otherwise. I felt myself being torn apart as the anger began to flood and wash away everything else inside of me.

"_So what the hell would you want us to do, Marcia? If Ponyboy hadn't killed Bob with that knife, I'd be dead because they would've drowned me!_

_Is that what you want? Would rather have us dead then Bob?_" I felt my eyes burning up and my arms quiver.

A reticent, "No..." was all that left her mouth.

"Really? 'Cause it sure as hell doesn't seem like it!" my bangs were covering part of my vision right then, so I moved it away.

She turned away, crying no doubt. That stopped me in my tracks, I couldn't say much more, I hated to see a girl cry and I think this is the first time I ever caused it.

It didn't me feel so hot, the inside of me quickly began to freeze over.

"You know what?" she began. "You're right Johnny, it isn't fair for me to say that, it really isn't. But I can tell you think us Socs got it made."

(You do...Don't you?)

"Well we don't, yeah y'all got it real tough, there's no denying that. But we've got worries you wouldn't even think about, our grades, who's got the best car, or rings-" she went on for a while more. But in the end I ignored the majority of it, knowing full as to where it was going.

"Yeah that sounds real tough, don't it?" she looked back at me incredulously. I then cursed myself for saying it out loud, I really wished she hadn't heard me say it, but that's how I truly felt right then.

"Oh you wouldn't understand," Marcia said sounding like she was fed-up with me by now, but now that I think about it, I've probably pushed her off that edge a long time ago.

I rose an eyebrow at her, but didn't smile. (_Why? 'Cause I'm a grease?_) I refused to let myself say it out loud, knowing she couldn't say no without lying to me and things would only get worse than they are now.

I sighed heavily to calm myself down, and gather my thoughts as Marcia seemed to go on and on, "I guess that's the same reason why Cherry didn't come either," I was saying to myself mostly but I also really needed Marcia to confirm my thoughts.

"Yeah." She just stopped what she was saying, or maybe finished long before I had said anything, but I wouldn't know either way.

"...You know what? I'm glad you two didn't come see them, I wouldn't want you to anyways. And Marcia, you can go ahead and stop acting so nice to me; I don't need any of your damn pity."

Marcia wheeled around and gazed at me in terror; barely believing a single bit of those words had come from this boy's mouth. "What? I'm not being nice to you because I feel sorry. I liked you from the start, Johnny."

I muttered a quiet, "Sure..." so she wouldn't be able to hear me, but what was really going on in my mind was: _You fuckin' lier. _

She looked back and let out a quivering sigh, "You know Johnny? Your friend, the hoodlum - Cherry was scared of him. But not in the way you'd think, she was scared of loving that man."

(Wait what?) I didn't believe that, I couldn't believe that.

...

_Cherry Valence...in love with Dallas Winston? That can't be right... I don't even see how that's possible._

_..._

Is that why Cherry and Marcia didn't go to see both of them? Bob was Marcia's best friend, and Cherry's boyfriend - now that I think about it, I wouldn't think it'd be such a great idea to visit the guy who'd kill my best friend. In fact, I don't think I'd ever do it, no matter who they were. And maybe that's why Cherry hated Dally so much, she didn't want to see him - that way she wouldn't fall in love with him. Marcia would already be afraid of Dally. Even though Dally was unconscious the whole time he was in the hospital, Marcia'd know that even if she wanted to see him, it wouldn't matter to Dally either way. He wouldn't want her there, and she doesn't have to be where she's not wanted.

"Hey," I called out suddenly, "can you see the sunset read good from the West Side?"

She blinked, startled, then she smiled at me wiping away a tear, I hadn't even noticed her crying. "Yeah."

I grinned real lightly, "Cool."

"Hey Johnny..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

I didn't say anything, just smiled back at her and we went on, walking _home _slowly...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ugh! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to update for such a long time, I've been reading a lot more fanfics in that time so I guess I'll use that as an excuse. Well anyway, I'm sorry this chapter was a piece of crap, it really sucked and I don't know why I couldn't get it all together. Maybe I'll re-write the whole story sometime soon, I dunno.

Well, the nearly month long hiatus was very helpful to me, in fact the course of two of my stories greatly shifted in that time. For that I'm very glad I didn't update, because well - the newer plots I thought up were much better, actually.

Oh, and before I forget, this chapter two take place before chapter one does.

Okay, so obviously this chapter was based off Ponyboy's talk with Cherry. I decided I wanted to make it Marcia instead of Cherry here not only because she is a far more obscure character than Cherry but also because the fact that Cherry was in love with Dallas intrigues yet deeply perplexes Johnny. Which would be why the conversation would be between Ponyboy and Cherry in the book, instead of Johnny and Marcia; as Cherry told Ponyboy, but not Johnny.

Poor Johnny, he's being so selfish here. Kinda odd how he wants everything to be back to the way they were, yet he also wants to see that things have changed (and hopefully for the better) since his friends have died.

I've got the next chapter kinda planned out, but don't expect an update for a while since I'll be resuming my fanfic writing hiatus. The only reason why I bothered posting this up now is because quite a people asked me to.

Reviews are welcome...


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